damned_institute | Nightshift 43: Disciplinary Therapy Corridor

Nightshift 43: Disciplinary Therapy Corridor

[From here]

Doors surrounded them on both sides, blotting up into the long ribbon of darkness ahead. By the light of their flashlights Depth Charge could pick out the eyes of handles glinting all the way to the end of the corridor. The effect was disquietening to say the least, like there were twenty or so different sides something could leap out from. And it was quiet here, too. Very quiet.

"Doesn't look like the party's here tonight," he commented in a low voice, knowing full well that the rooms could easily have been soundproofed but choosing to ignore common sense in favour of breaking the silence. "You still conscious?"

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Light. The light woke it before the voices and she eased through the cracks in the doors, slipped through the keyholes, and tumbled into the room completely unseen. After all, who could see air? Not so much of a whisper as she stretched and yawned and found her playmates for the evening.

Conscious? Consciousness was silly. They didn't need that.

She giggled and slipped to Depth Charge's side, tugging at his sleeve as she danced around him - her fingers and arm appeared in a white, ghostlike outline. Soon she disappeared again, moving to the other side and floating up to play with his hair.

[Kaze]

"Conscious enough." The intensity of the headache seemed to have plateaued; aggravating as its current level was, he was fairly sure it wouldn't get worse. He could function relatively normally, at least.

A brief scan of the hallway--empty, as far as he could tell. Still, he kept watching their surroundings for anything resembling movement. Even if he hadn't taken Depth Charge's question about his health seriously, he still trusted the other man to watch his back. That was a lot more than could be said for most.

'Conscious enough' would do for now. It didn't look as though anything was-- did someone just giggle? Before Depth Charge could even try to pinpoint the source something tugged on his remaining sleeve, tickling at his bare skin.

"Did you just-?" The Maximal stopped himself very quickly indeed. Javert was standing in front of him, for one thing. 'sides, he didn't exactly seem like the type to giggle or try to tickle him.

Then something shifted in the air for a moment- the faintest trace of arms, gossamer thin and silvery- before vanishing again. Moments later and the feeling was up by his ear and through his hair. He stopped dead in his tracks. "Uh... Javert? I think we may have a problem."

Problem? There was no problem! The sylph glided away and sighed, the sound of wind rustling curtains. Why didn't people ever play with her? So boring. Coming back, she ruffled Javert's hair this time and then went back to Depth Charge, picking at his clothes here and there with little fingers, tugging at his shirt, at his pants hem, tugging on his flashlight as she snickered and giggled faintly in the dark.

This time Javert heard the faint giggle and felt the light, invisible hand through his hair. He reached up instinctively, a slight frown appearing on his features, but his fingers met nothing.

He turned back, directing his flashlight toward Depth Charge but remaining careful to avoid blinding the other man. Was it just him, or had he caught a glimpse of arms across Depth Charge's sleeve?

"I see it," he said after a moment, taking a step closer. "The question is whether it's Special Counseling or another of Landel's pets."

"Don't look at me. I thought it was you." And if that wasn't an admission of just how little Depth Charge knew he didn't know what was.

The giggling returned, up close and personal again. Ghostly outlines of fingers like little wisps of smoke plucked at his clothes. "Pet sounds about right. Strange how she's not trying to kill us y- hey!"

The flashlight jerked in his hand, not with any real force but just enough to startle him. It came as a healthy reminder that the operative word in that sentence was 'yet', and he fixed the air around it with a stern, suspicious look. "Quit it."

Oh... Was he angry? Was he? The sylph seemed to shrink back for a moment, hovering just barely in the realm of visibility before she winked out and giggled again. If he was angry, that could be fun! Would he try to strike her even if she was made of air? Flitting back to Depth Charge, she ran circles around him, nipping at his clothes before twirling over to where Javert was standing, laughing all the while. Taking cover behind him, she grabbed at the back of his shirt, balling her little fists in the cloth as if she were trying to hide.

The light laughter that surrounded Javert was beginning to sound familiar. He peered into the darkness, but again only caught the faintest glimpse of something as it tugged at the back of his greatcoat.

"You're clearly sentient," he said out loud, trying to think back to the notes he'd made in his journal. There had been an entry about something like this; the problem was that there were simply far too many creatures in the institute for him to remember all of them perfectly without some effort. But there had been something about not making deals with ghosts of this sort, he was sure of it. Why was another matter entirely.

Feeling not a little self-conscious about talking to what was apparently nothing, he turned his head slightly. "Are you capable of speech?"

At first, it worked. She slipped backwards the way you'd expect a sparkling to after getting caught with their paws in the energon cookie jar. But the relief was short lived and nanokliks later she was back in action, shifting out of sight and moving around him again and again in playful giggling circles.

Fortunately for him, Javert seemed to have appointed himself chief of Inter-species Communications in the interval.

"Oh, no. You're actually talking to it? Are you serious?" Depth Charge shook his head in disbelief, arms folding again. Since when did they stop to negotiate with the monsters? Even cute little girl monsters? He sighed. "Fine, fine, whatever. She likes you better anyway. Maybe she'll play nice for you."

Oooh, was he talking to her? He was! He wanted to play then? The sylph giggled, regaining her confidence as she let go of his shirt and seemed to disappear. The sound of her laughter echoed faintly into the corners of the room, then petered out into silence.

For a short while, there was no sound from her, almost as if she'd left the room, but really, she was only watching. The two men were silly, thinking they could get her to talk. Silly humans, silly people with their breathy words. Maybe she should take them away. Yes, she decided, she would take away their silly words because it wasn't like she could talk back. A wind passed through the room again, bringing with it the sound of her laughter. It settled around Javert and she ruffled his hair, teased his clothes, and began thinning out the air around him.

Javert waited a moment after the sound of the creature's laughter faded away, but there was nothing. Exhaling slightly, he turned to Depth Charge.

"This is the only creature I've encountered so far that has even appeared to comprehend what I was saying. It was certainly worth a try, even if it appears to have gone now; if you have any other ideas regarding how to prevent an irritatingly vague death by an incorporeal creature, I'd be willing to listen."

Still no sound from the air around him. He advanced a few more steps, scanning the shut doors cautiously. No signs of movement, though that was usual for even experimental treatment nights. He had ventured to try the first door when the breeze returned, drawing invisible fingers through his hair and clothes. Whatever it was seemed harmless for the moment, though that could change at any moment.

"Back again, I see," he remarked idly to the air. Some part of him noted that the words came out a little more slowly, though that could easily be attributed to his headache, which hadn't faded.

Well, that was a good point, but Depth Charge wasn't about to admit that. He waited in surly silence for a little longer, but the thing seemed to have vanished without a trace- if it was even capable of leaving traces in the first place, that is.

He gave a sigh and set about working out a crick in his undamaged shoulder. "Looks like you scared her off. Nice work." And he was only half being sarcastic; the less they saw or felt of that thing the better. Seemed like a waste, though, her having the run of the place but not being able to tell anyone about it, especially when there were so many locked rooms here no amount of brute force would open up.

A sudden breeze across his skin alerted him to the... thing's... return. "She just couldn't resist your charm offensive, huh?" he commented casually, turning his flashlight onto the airy whorls of movement around Javert. Just what was her angle, exactly?

She giggled when he spoke again, drawing the breath out of his words. How long could he last like this? She liked it when he talked - it was so funny! She floated near his head, mussing his hair and laughing. When would he notice? Would he pass out before he did? It'd be so funny if he passed out! He had such a far way to fall to hit the floor. Would he make noise? Oh, she was certain he'd make noise!

The air began to thin out from the room itself as she started to draw it to her. It made no noise, no indication that she was even doing anything, except that perhaps they would notice the way their lungs were starting to ache, or how her laughter didn't seem to echo anymore.

Javert didn't respond to Depth Charge's remarks. He was perfectly capable of responding; the problem was that he was suddenly very aware that in a few moments, he wouldn't be.

He knew what was happening. After all, it had happened before. Except this time his body was drawing deep breaths of absolutely nothing instead of water.

Spots were already beginning to dance in his line of sight, and it was a moment before he could gather himself sufficiently to attempt an escape. Run, he tried to say, but the word was lost as soon as it left his mouth. Instead he moved as quickly as he could toward the door himself, unsure if the creature would follow him but too desperate for air to consider the matter fully. Presumably Depth Charge would find out what he meant soon enough.

And Javert said... nothing. Depth Charge blinked, obviously thrown- this was the part where the guy was supposed to take a free potshot at his ego. Even more strangely, he'd suddenly bolted towards the door like a man on a mission. After everything said, he'd chosen to take offense at that?

"Aren't you a little old for the... silent..." Slowly but surely the sentence trailed off into breathless silence and something in his chest constricted like a deflating balloon. Human reflexes kicked in before his Cybertronian mind could catch up and he found himself drawing in a sudden deep breath- a breath that turned out to be far more shallow than it should have been.

Not talking didn't seem so odd when you figured out the air in the room was draining away. Depth Charge hurried after him, taking short, rapid breaths of air into lungs it didn't even occur to him he had until recently. The klik he figured out how to damage thin air, that girl was scrap metal.

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Nightshift 43: Disciplinary Therapy Corridor

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